


Ill-born Faith

by saint_troll



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Coda, Episode: s07e01 Meet the New Boss, Episode: s07e17 The Born-Again Identity, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:58:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1337944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saint_troll/pseuds/saint_troll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events leading up to the Leviathan taking over Castiel’s vessel and  Emmanuel’s redemption...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ill-born Faith

Doubt. If he’d ever thought the weight of it was too much to bear before, he’d been a fool. How had he gotten everything so wrong? It was clearer to him now why humans struggled so much with the concept of faith. Free will was a heavy curse to carry. And not for even a moment, did he assume that they were ever blessed with a reprieve. He wished it thus now for it would be a boon in this darkness. His vessel melting before his very eyes; Castiel searched through every memory of his existence for answers. He found only one. The Winchesters.

 

***

 

“We need the right blood. There's a small jar; end of the hall, s-supply closet.”

 

Nothing but business etched over his face, Sam’s feature bore no witness to the torture that Castiel knew had become as normal as breathing to the man. “Got it.” 

 

Castiel feels the anger, smells the betrayal, and sees the pain he’d caused on Dean. The hunter’s essence is hazy with it. The souls within the angel press at his vessel’s flesh as a fresh surge of guilt blooms inside of him. “Dean?” His voice is weak, ragged from the constant drain on his form. He supposes it’s of no matter anyway; Dean is intent to ignore his pleas for forgiveness and far too impatient to listen long enough for him to explain in his current state. 

 

“What, you need something else?”

 

Your forgiveness? “No.” He watches the hunter move about the room; adding the finishing touches to the spell with his brother and surrogate father. Castiel longs to reach out and hold him. Or, beg to be held. However, it is clear that he does not deserve such comfort. “I feel regret, about you... and what I did to Sam.”

 

“Yeah, well, you should.” Dean shoots back callously. 

 

He won’t even look at him. And it pains Castiel more than any wound ever will. “If there was time, if I was strong enough, I'd… I'd fix him now.” He follows the hunter’s agitated movements across the room with his eyes. “I just wanted to make amends before I die.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Is it working?” It’s insulting to even ask. But what little faith Castiel can muster, lies with the brothers. 

 

“Does it make you feel better?” Dean asks through a clenched jaw.

 

“No. You?” He admits sadly.

 

“Not a bit.”

 

***

 

“That's good enough. Okay, step right up, Cas.” Bobby’s tone is surprisingly gentle. Castiel can’t help but remember how he was the first and only one to drop to his knees in worship not out of fear but out of faith; no matter how ill-born. There’s nothing he can say or do to express this, so he keeps the memory to himself.

 

Words falling from the elder hunter’s mouth, the ritual begins. “Ianua magna purgatorii, clausa est ob nos lumine eius ab oculis nostris retento sed nunc stamus ad limen huius ianuae magnae et demisse fideliter perhonorifice paramus aperire eam.”

 

How fitting that the very soul he raised from hell is the one now tearing the monstrous ones from his near graceless celestial form. Castiel supposes this is going to be their final goodbye. There is no-one left to save him. Not God. Not Lucifer. And certainly not any of his remaining brothers and sisters. Those that he’d not slain, feared him and rightly so. 

 

At the end of it all, he’d become nothing more than a villain. Any of his heavy handed justice outshone by the acts of the creatures of purgatory that had taken control of his vessel. 

 

Murder. He’d slain the innocent. There would be no mercy for him now. 

 

Heart heavy, he watches Sam, Dean, and Bobby prepare the spell. He trembles in their grip as they lift him up before the sigil. He was going to do this on his own. He’d brought this hell to earth. He was going to be the one to take it away. But now, now he was…

 

…too weak. 

 

“Creaturae terrificae quarum ungulae et dentes nunquam tetigerunt carnem eius ad mundum nostrum nunc ianua magna, aperta tandem!”

 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Terror filling him as his legs gave out, Castiel lets the tears come when first Dean’s strong arms grip him and then Bobby’s. Together, they hoisted him back up and then there was nothing but glowing light and pain. So much pain. It was as if the very building blocks of every demon and monster, or worse, thrived on the sensation; reveled in it. A final gasp left his lips and then he was aware of nothing but black.

 

***

 

“Damn it, Cas. You child. Why didn't you listen to me?” 

 

He comes to in a rush of sensations; the muggy air of the room pressing into his lungs with brutal force only to be sucked out again, the stiffness of his now soiled clothing, the ghost of someone’s breath on his skin and their hands on his face. Castiel’s eyes fly open. Dean is kneeling over him; eyes wet and his own face red and angry with grief. But that wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be grieving for someone, something, like him. 

 

“Cas?! Hey! Hey! Okay. All right.” 

 

“That was unpleasant.” Dean’s hands are skimming over his body checking for injury. It’s a blessing. Another one. Another unexplainable miracle. He’s been brought back… again. But by whom? “I’m alive?” If anyone had been expecting it, it wasn’t him. Steady arms pull at Castiel’s shoulders. He moves with them. 

 

“Looks like.” The gruffness in Bobby’s voice has given way to awe. 

 

Castiel knows exactly how he feels. “I'm astonished. Thank you. Both of you.” It’s inadequate but it’s not a lie. It’s one of the most honest selection of words he has spoken in quite a while.

 

“We were mostly... just trying to save the world.” Bobby admits with a hint of remorse.

 

The regret is truly misplaced. In his right mind, Castiel would have done the same at any cost. It had been his original intention. Somehow, he’d become lost along the way. “I'm ashamed. I really overreached.”

 

“You think?”

 

The playfulness in Dean’s voice is more than Castiel could’ve hoped for. He doesn’t care if there is judgement behind the banter. He doesn’t even care if it’s the entirety of forgiveness received from the hunter. It’s enough to lift his heart. “I'm going to find some way to redeem myself to you.”

 

“All right, well, one thing at a time. Come on. Let's get you out of here. Come on.”

 

And the miracles keep coming. Castiel is amazed… and confused. Why? “I mean it, Dean.”

 

“Okay. All right. But let's go find Sam, okay?”

 

Up until that moment, he’d been so consumed by his own anguish that he hadn’t noticed the younger brother’s absence. They had to find him. He had to fix what he’d shattered in the hunter’s mind. Castiel starts to respond, to insist they seek him out immediately. His words are stolen from his lips as the calm that had spread inside of him breaks. There is screaming, snarling and so much laughter. Castiel’s body begins to shake. Trying to tear himself from Dean and Bobby’s grip, he yells. “You need to run now! I… I can't hold them back!”

 

Still clinging to his arm, Dean replies in confusion. “Hold who back?”

 

Whisper soft, he tries to explain. “They held on inside me. Dean, they're so strong.” Castiel is crying now. His tears are no longer for himself but the world he’s just condemned. He’s not only failed at saving them, he’s forsaken the entire world to the blackest abyss. 

 

“Who the hell?”

 

Castiel can no longer discern who is speaking. He has to warn them. They have to flee! “Leviathan!” His vessel is straining under the pressure. Skin tight and angry over so much bone and muscle. Castiel wills his true form to be revealed. Perhaps, it would burn away the remnants of the creatures. Nothing happens. He’s empty. Steady and surely, he’s being emptied out from deep within. “I can't fight them. Run!”

 

Turning to Bobby, Dean’s shouting now. “Go! Go get Sam! Go get Sam!” The hunter’s eyes meet Castiel’s once more before everything is once again consumed in black. 

 

***

The white light of his grace fades away. Demons crumple at his feet. The brick walls of the asylum are suddenly so much more and so much less as memories threaten to overcome the consciousness within him known as Emmanuel. The name in itself would be absurd if only Castiel’s very existence wasn’t proof enough that somehow, somewhere God was with him.

 

He remembers the first time he’d met Dean in this form. He remembers rebelling against the host for him. And he remembers reaching within Sam’s mind and shattering the wall death had placed within it. Crowley’s face burns its way through every memory. He’d betrayed the very man that he’d sacrificed everything for; the man he’d fallen in love with. He’d destroyed everything.

 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel whispers as the memory of his intended death replays in his vessel’s mind. 

 

“That's my boy.” 

 

He tries not to flinch at the affection in the demon’s voice. One of the demons tries to run away; phasing out and appearing right in front of him, Castiel offers no apology as he places his hand on its head. “I don't think running will save you.” White light flares inside the monstrosities skull and he drops to the ground a corpse. Unseen to the hunter and Meg, Castiel spreads his wings wide as his grace and consciousness finally synchronize.

 

Their demon companion speaks first. “That was beautiful, Clarence.”

 

“Cas?”

 

His name sounds so broken coming from Dean’s lips. Regret and shame threaten to consume the light that’s just barely been relit within him. “I remember you.” He turns to face the hunter. “I remember everything.” Bowing his head, Castiel avoids making eye contact with him. He can’t. Not now that he recalls the treachery he’d reigned down. “What I did. What I became. Why didn't you tell me?”

 

Dean shifts on his feet; his gaze follows the angel’s face. “Because Sam is dying in there.”

 

The brutal edge of his pudency nearly overtakes him. There’s no hiding the sadness in Castiel’s voice as he speaks. “Because of me. Everything. All these people. I shouldn't be here.” Slowly turning on his heels, the angel walks away.

 

And yet, he hears Dean yelling for him. No, he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be alive. For the crimes he’s committed, he deserves nothing more than death.

 

“If you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time!”

 

He can’t bear it. “Don't defend me. Do you have any idea the death toll in Heaven? On Earth?” Stopping, he turns to face the hunter. “We didn't part friends, Dean.”

 

“So what?”

 

“I deserved to die. Now, I can't possibly fix it... So why did I even walk out of that river?” He can’t expect a man, even a righteous one, to be able to answer that.

 

“Maybe to fix it.” 

 

And yet, he does.

 

“Wait.” Dean opens the trunk of the Impala and takes out the angel’s trenchcoat and holds it out to him. Their eyes meet and within the connection, Castiel finds an answer that cannot be translated into spoken word.

 

***

 

He finds Sam strapped to a monstrous device with a demons moments from burning him alive. Castiel lays his hands upon the creature and burns the evil out of it with little restraint. He turns off the machine and slowly peels the electrodes from the younger Winchester’s head. “I should never have broken your wall, Sam.” Castiel removes the mouthguard before gently caressing the hunter’s forehead. “I’m here to make it right.” He can feel the grace surging through his limb and skimming over Sam’s skin. But somehow he remains unhealled. 

 

“You're not real.” Sam insists and tries to yank away from the angel’s touch.

 

“Oh, Sam... I'm so sorry.”

 

***

 

“What the hell do you mean you can’t?!” 

 

Dean’s words are angry and bordering on desperation. It breaks Castiel’s heart… or the closest thing he has to one. “I mean there's nothing left to rebuild.”

 

“Why not?!”

 

It takes a moment of deep introspection before he can answer the hunter’s question. “Because it crumbled. The pieces got crushed to dust by whatever's happening inside his head right now.”

 

“So you're saying there's nothing? That he's gonna be like this until his candle blows out?”

 

“I'm sorry.” The declaration is already losing its meaning despite Castiel truly feeling remorse. Apologies can only heal so much. “This isn't a problem I can make disappear. And you know that.” No, to heal Sam he needs more power that what his grace can afford. The silence swells between them and in it a realization settles over the angel. “ut I may be able to shift it.”

 

“Shift?”

 

“Yeah, it would get Sam back on his feet.” He doesn’t clarify to Dean exactly what his actions will bring about. He leaves it at the fact that it will save Sam. It’s enough for Castiel. It’ll never be the penance his crimes deserve but it will be a start. He sits gently down beside Sam. His voice barely above a whisper, he adds. “It’s better this way. I’ll be fine.”

 

Sam flinches. It’s a small act but it’s enough to draw Dean’s attention. “Wait, Cas, what are you doing?” 

 

Panic is rising in Dean’s voice and Castiel knows he must act fast before his decision can be altered. “Now, Sam… I'm sorry I ever did this to you. He places a hand on the hunter’s forehead. Sam groans in pain as his face and eyes glow red. It appears as if the light is going to consume him when it suddenly moves. It travels up Castiel’s arm and into his face following the intricate path of his vessel’s circulatory system. As the angel’s eyes turn red, Sam groans and gasps for breath.

 

Everything burns cold. The pain, the torture, and the finality of his imprisonment… they burn so very cold. Castiel opens his eyes; hoping to find the worried gaze of the Winchester brothers. He can almost hear Sam calling out to him. But that’s not right. He’s not alone, no. Horror fills Castiel as he backs away from the true face of a brother he’d not laid eyes upon in over a millenia. 

“Hello… brother.”


End file.
